Conversations
by literarylolita
Summary: Things can't always go left unsaid. Eclare.
1. Confusion is Nothing New

**A/N: Hi there! Long time, no write. You know how life goes. Anyway, I really want to see some conversations about the frostival kiss. What do teenage girls do when they kiss a boy? Talk about it endlessly with their friends, of course. What does Eli do when Clare kisses him? I don't know, but I'm guessing he over-analyzes everything with fervor. Since each episode of Degrassi is roughly 22 minutes, I doubt we will get to see/hear these talks. Each chapter will be a different conversation. Maybe, just MAYBE, I'll be able to write a full-length fic again after this is finished. So read, review if you like, and try to enjoy! **

**Oh, please keep in mind that I rarely write in first person, so cut me a wee bit of slack!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Degrassi, Adam would have a damn girlfriend and Imogen would get a storyline that doesn't revolve her being a love interest. **

_Eli_

Did that really just happen? Did Clare Edwards really just kiss me? As I slide into Bullfrog's car, I can tell by the look on his face that the very same questions are reeling through his head.

"Uh, Kid…was that…"

"Yeah," I cut him off and send him a warning look, not wanting to have this conversation. I need time to sort this out in my very messed up head. I need to run. I might need a pill. What I DON'T need is to talk about it.

"…Clare Edwards?" he finishes, not taking the hint. The car is still in park. I look out the window and can faintly see Clare's form disappearing into the crowd. Her hair is longer. How did I not notice that before?

_Because you're done obsessing over women, Eli, _I tell myself. _Particularly that one._

"Just drive, will you?" I plead.

"Okay, okay…" Bullfrog throws up his hands in surrender and shifts gears.

For a few blissful moments, no sounds fill the car but those of NOFX on the radio. There are no uncomfortable exchanges or questions asked. The thing about moments, though, is they're just that; they don't last forever.

"Kid, you do realize we're going to talk about this. It's not optional."

I sigh, knowing my dad will make good on his words. Things have really changed in my household since my bipolar diagnosis. Where there was once space, there is now Bullfrog and Cece. I minded at first, but to be honest, I truly think their newfound involvement in my life has helped me deal with my illness. I'm incredibly grateful for them, and I know how lucky I am to have such good parents. There are times, however, when I need the space back. Times like tonight.

"What EXACTLY do you want to talk about?" I ask with a slight edge to my voice. Bullfrog turns right at a stoplight.

"Clare. Lips. Yours. Hers. How in the hell that happened." He turns the radio down. "Last I heard you two were civil but not exactly joined at the hip." He chuckles a bit. "Or mouth." I groan.

"Well, that's pretty much how it was, but we've been hanging out a bit lately…" I stop, not knowing what else to say.

"I thought you were just helping Clare at the newspaper."

"That makes two of us." I take a deep breath, then add: "I was hoping Clare and I could become FRIENDS again." My lips contort into a soft smile. "She was my BEST friend, Bullfrog. I know I messed up with her, I messed up TERRIBLY, but I thought that maybe, just maybe…"

"You two could pick up where you left off?" He suggests, and I just stare at him. It's not often my father hits the nail on the proverbial coffin.

"Exactly."

"Kid, you know that's not possible. There's too much history. Too many feelings." He grunts and ruffles a hand through his hair. "Apparently feelings that still exist."

"See, that's the thing, Dad." He looks surprised; I rarely pull out the 'Dad' card. "Just hours ago, she said all of our feelings for each other were in the past. After that, it was just like old times. The old relationship we had when we first became English partners seemed to have resurfaced. We talked, we laughed, we bantered, and we worked with words."

"It's been a long time," Bullfrog admits. "And you've been doing so well. I guess I don't see why you two can't be FRIENDS." He pulls into our driveway. "But why the kissing? That's what I don't get." He parks the car, but neither of us shows any signs of leaving it.

"Me neither," I whisper. "I never thought…after everything I did…" I can't find the words I'm searching for before my voice starts to crack with emotion.

_Dammit, Eli. Keep it together._

"I have no idea why she kissed me, Dad. One minute we were walking around the carnival and laughing, and then she's admitting that she was worried about us hanging out, but not worried for me. I asked her if that meant what I thought it did, which was probably stupid, but the next thing I knew her lips were on mine." Not wanting to look my dad in they eye, I stare out the window at nothing specific.

"Look, Eli, what you two had was intense-"

"I know, Dad." My throat constricts with the words.

"Let me finish. Look at me," he demands. I do. "What you two had was intense, especially for your age, but there is a very good chance it could have been the real thing. It could still BE the real thing. I know everyone's probably told you that it was just young love, and young love doesn't last. But sometimes it does. Look at your mom and me. Together since we were seventeen."

"Yeah, yeah yeah." I have heard this story a million times before. "And twenty years later, you're still in love and, often to my horror, incredibly hot for one another."

Bullfrog laughs. "Yeah, Kid. But do you think those twenty years haven't come with rough patches? That's the thing about the real thing: you have to work for it. Just because you made some mistakes doesn't mean it's over."

_She made it clear it was last year._ "Dad, on opening night of Love Roulette Clare told me that we were, and I quote, 'never getting back together'."

"Eli, you were manic! You wrote a play that turned Clare into a villain. She was about to watch said play. Not to mention you didn't have the right medication, or even a diagnosis for what was making you feel so messed up inside." He puts his hand on my shoulder. "People say things. It's understandable that she said you were never getting back together at that particular place and time, but that doesn't mean she meant it. Well hell, I'm sure she did at the time, but she might not mean it anymore." He smiles. "You're better, kid. We lost you there for a while, but you're YOU again."

I close my eyes and try to process the fact that Clare might still care for me, attempt to convince myself that the kiss really happened and my mind wasn't just playing tricks on me again. Bullfrog's right; I might finally be the guy she fell in love with. Funny how that happened when I wasn't even trying to be that guy. Not for her, anyway. For me.

"Do you still love her?" Bullfrog's question snaps me out of my trance.

"Of course I do," I say without hesitation. "It's Clare."

"I know it is, Kid. That's why this whole thing scares me."

**A/N: I hope you found this interesting. Dialogue is probably my strong point as a writer; the only formal writing classes I've taken are playwriting courses. Up next, Clare and Jake!**


	2. I See You Dancing on the Stage of Memory

**A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed! So, how about that promo? Looks intense! Then again, Degrassi promos almost ALWAYS look intense. We'll see just how intense it gets come July, I guess. This chapter is slightly longer than the first. I had a hard time writing a father/son conversation because I've never had a good dad, and obviously I've never been a son. Review, please!**

**If you want to talk/fangirl with me, my twitter is literarylolita and my tumblr is .com**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Degrassi, there would be far less screen time for Alli.**

Clare

Joy. Pure, unadulterated joy is all I feel as I skip through the frostival. I giggle and touch my lips again, giddy with happiness. When was the last time I felt this happy? This light? Probably when Jake and I first got together, right after Eli and I broke up. That was so long ago, though, and Eli and I just kissed…

Oh my God.

Eli and I just kissed.

No, scratch that; _I _had kissed _Eli._

Oh, my. What did I just do? Was that a huge mistake? Was it a risk? Was it worth it?

Yes, no, yes, no…I don't know.

Trying not to get too lost in thought, I make my way to the red truck parked in front of Degrassi. Jake and Jenna are leaning against it with clasped hands. I'm surprised at how little the sight stings; it's more annoying than hurtful. That's an appropriate sisterly reaction, right?

I'm going to go with yes.

"Hey," I awkwardly interrupt. I really just want to go home, curl up in my bed, and overthink what this newfound giddiness in my belly means.

"Oh, hi Clare!" Jenna immediately drops her hand from Jake's. I roll my eyes and toss my leftover cotton candy into a nearby trashcan.

"You know, I really don't care if you two are dating," I say. It's mostly true. "You don't have to hide it from me. Honestly."

"Oh, we're just friends…" Jenna smiles nervously. "I actually have to go. I'm meeting Alli at the carousel in five minutes to head home. Bye, Clare!" I swear I see a blush come across her face. "Bye, Jake." She waves as she leaves.

I raise an eyebrow at Jake. He shakes his head and motions for me to get in the truck. It's funny, he never opened the door for me when we he was my boyfriend, either. I know I'm fully capable of opening my own door, but sometimes it's nice to know that chivalry isn't dead.

That's ONE thing Eli and I never had a problem with.

Eli. Eli's lips. They're as soft as I remembered…

"You've got a look on your face," Jake surmises as he points the truck towards home. We don't live far from the school.

"Well, every face always has a look on it, Jake." I smirk. "That's why it's called a 'look'."

"Whatever." He rolls his eyes and we finish the ride home in a somewhat comfortable silence.

We pull up in front of the house, and I rush inside. The temperature seems to have dropped several degrees in the past half and hour or so. Maybe I was just warm because I was near Eli; he has always made my blood boil in one way or another…

I shake the thought off and store my winter attire in the front closet. The kitchen beckons; I skipped on 'real food' at the carnival, too nervous to eat around Eli.

I'm rummaging through the fridge when Jake walks in. I roll my eyes, unsurprised. That boy is ALWAYS hungry. I seriously don't think I've ever seen him fully satiated (in any aspect). I open the freezer and hit the jackpot: Ben and Jerry's. I don't care that it's winter or that I've already reached a normal person's sugar quota for the night. I know half-baked ice cream will help me sort out my girlish woes/joys. This is one lesson Alli taught me I will never forget. I grin, thrilled all over again to have my friends back.

I grab a spoon then turn towards the door, but Jake stops me.

"Stay. Let's talk." He sits on the stool against the wall with a bag of chips in his hand.

"Do we HAVE to?" I ask.

"Yes. I feel like bonding with my _sister."_

"Uh…okay?" I say, not sure how to respond to _that._ I hop onto the counter and get a big spoonful of ice cream. It slides down my throat and I feel happy. Normal. At ease.

If anyone had asked me a month ago if I'd ever feel this way again, the answer would have been a resounding NO.

"What's on your mind?" I ask my stepbrother. We haven't 'bonded' much since our 'arrest', but I'm not completely opposed to the idea. He probably just wants to complain about Glen; the two have been having minor spats lately. He put up with many of my temper tantrums during our relationship, so I owed at least a sympathetic ear.

"That look on your face." He attempts to smirk. "I've seen it before."

"Oh yeah?" I take another bite. "When was that?"

"The first time I kissed you."

I nearly choke on my snack. "Jake, we don't talk about this stuff." It's true. Jake and I never speak of our relationship; I think it keeps the amicable feelings between us intact.

"So?" He's talking with food in his mouth. Gross. Again, I wonder how I didn't notice this habit before. "Let's talk about it now."

I sigh. "Care to describe this 'look' to me?" This is awkward, but I can't seem to stop myself from having this conversation. I thought I just wanted to contemplate the events of the evening alone, but I'm realizing just how much I want to talk about them. I might need to call Alli. Would she understand? Maybe. I'm not really sure where she stands on a lot of things these days.

Jake smirks again. I note how he's not very good at it. I really need to stop noticing his flaws. I won't cheapen what we had; it meant something to me, even if it was never supposed to last 'forever'.

"Clare, you're an open book." He laughs. "Your eyes are slightly dazed, and you can't erase this faint smile from your face." He looks down. "You're infatuated."

"Oh, please." I point my spoon at him. "You're crazy."

"Really, Clare? You're calling ME crazy?" He lets out a snort of derision. "Remember that night we first met? Well, re-met, I guess." I freeze, waiting for it.

"Jake, come on-"

"DID YOU FLIP A SWITCH AND ERASE ME FROM YOUR MEMORY?" He mocks in a high-pitched voice. "DID YOU EVER LOVE ME AT ALL?"

I'm sure my cheeks are flushed with a vibrant crimson red at this point. The scene he is acting out is certainly NOT one of my proudest moments.

"Jerk," I pout.

He laughs softly. "I'm just kidding, _Sis._"

"Well, I suppose big brothers are allowed to tease little sisters." I stroke my chin, appearing to be in deep thought. "Though, this means that I, as your little sister, get to be a real pain-in-the-butt whenever I feel like it, and YOU have to grin and bear it."

"What do you think I've been doing for the past few months?"

"Ouch!" We're both doubled over with laughter, and it feels so natural that I'm mad we wasted so much time avoiding one another when we could have been having moments like this one.

"So tell me, who is the lucky guy?"

I freeze with my spoon halfway to my mouth. "Uh…"

"You can tell me, you know."

"Oh really? Well you can tell ME about you and Jenna, you know," I counter. I'm stalling.

"Fine," he throws up his hands. "I think she's cool. We're taking it slow."

"Slow? You? Really?"

"Yes, _really._ Come on Clare, think about it: she just gave up her KID. I doubt she's ready for anything serious."

I hadn't thought of that. I wonder how she's doing and can't believe I've have asked. I would have a year ago, even if I WAS still a bit angry with her.

"Makes sense," I nod.

"Not to mention the last time I jumped into a relationship my girlfriend's mom married my dad." A sly grin appears on his face. "Too soon?"

"Nah," I wave him off. "Well, I'm glad you two are being smart, I guess. I really do want you to be happy."

"And I want YOU to be happy. So tell me, who is the guy? Is it that Liam dude from the Newspaper?"

"No, Jake, it's not Liam, it's-"

"OH, is it Adam? You really did take a LOT of interest in helping him get ready for that date. Were you jealous? I know you two are friends, but is there something-"

"NO, Jake, it's not Adam." I inhale. "It's Eli." And exhale.

I don't know how long we sit there, looking at one another without saying a word. The comfortable silence from the truck is long gone, and I just want him to say something. Anything. Because I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about any of this, and I really need a second opinion, even if it does come from my ex-boyfriend/stepbrother.

"Say something." My voice is barely audible.

Jake just continues to stare at me. I may be an open book, but he is certainly not. He never has been.

"Jake, I-"

"Were you over him when you and I were together?"

"What? Yes! No…maybe. I don't know."

"I guess it's not fair of me to ask that," he sighs. "So, uh, tell me: how did this happen?"

I think for a moment. How DID this happen? Did it happen when Eli walked into the newsroom? Did it happen when he asked me to have lunch? When I horrifically spilled soup on his pants? At the frostival? Somehow, I don't think any of these answers are the ones I'm looking for.

"I'm not exactly sure," I start, "but I did kiss him tonight."

For some reason I expect an explosion. I don't know why; Jake's never been volatile, so I shouldn't be surprised by his response.

"Huh," he says.

"Huh?" I laugh. "All I can think about is Eli and his lips on mine, and all you have to say is 'huh'?"

"What do you want me to say, Clare?"

"I don't know."

"How do you feel about it?"

"Jake," I sigh, "I don't really know HOW to feel. I guess I know that I should feel scared, worried, confused, and slightly stupid. And maybe on some level, I do. But…"

"But you've got that look on your face."

"Yeah, I know." A beat passes before he speaks.

"What are you going to do about it?"

I have no response for that because the answer is not something I'm ready or willing to consider at the present moment. I just want to go to my room, crawl in bed, and relive tonight over and over again. I simply shrug and head out of the kitchen to do just that.

**A/N: Up next: Eli and Fiona!**


	3. You've Got Your Head In the Clouds

**A/N: Thank you so much to all who reviewed. I appreciate it more than Tristan and Tori appreciate **_**Westdrive**_**. About this chapter…I really just need to accept the fact that my "Clare" pieces will likely always be longer than my "Eli" pieces. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Degrassi I wouldn't have recycled the "rich girl loses money" storyline as quickly as their Powers That Be did. **

_Eli_

It's eleven forty-five before I give up on sleep and stop tossing and turning in my bed. I should be sleeping; I have a long day of snowboarding lessons ahead of me. I never used to care much for physical activity, but it really helps my moods. I'm glad my therapist recommended exercise. Something about getting my blood running in a healthy way just makes me feel damn near high. I've been looking forward to this vacation for a month.

My parents thought getting away for the holidays would be good for all of us. My mental health has taken a toll on our family; there is no denying that. I've become so accustomed to my routine that's often enforced by Cece and Bullfrog. I never thought they'd interrupt it and wisk us off to a little cabin in Maine for a vacation, especially a vacation involving SPORTS. Cece wants to try ice-skating on the nearby lake in the morning and I'd be lying if I said the very thought of it didn't amuse me; she has about as much grace as me (which is to say she has none at all). We've only been here for a day; our flight landed at noon and we spent the rest of the day just relaxing in the cabin CeCe found online. "_We have to stay here_!" She'd said. _"It looks like a goddamn Norman Rockewell painting, Mom,"_ I told her. "_Shut your mouth, baby boy,"_ she'd replied. Bullfrog shot me a warning look and that was that.

Today Cece baked in the tiny kitchen, Bullfrog and I played darts in the little den, and now I'm pacing in my small room. I want to call someone and talk about what happened with Clare. I NEED to talk about it, because I tried writing about it and nothing came out. I want to talk to Adam, but…I just can't bring myself to call him. Calling him would make this real; the kind of real I can't come back from. If anything bad happens again and Adam knows about it…I won't be able to pretend it was all a messed up fever dream. I need to hold on to that option for now, so no, I'm definitely not calling Adam.

I need to be sure before I talk to Adam about any of this. The problem is that I'm not quite aware of WHAT it is I need to be sure of.

I grab my phone and throw on my coat before heading outside. Waking my parents would be a bad thing; they would assume I'm having an "episode", and the walls in our temporary home are paper-thin. I am not looking forward to the night during this vacation my parents will surely do thinks I'd rather not think about, let alone hear.

Who do I call? Adam's out. Imogen? No. I know we're friends, but it just feels too soon to talk about this stuff with her. As I contemplate whom to annoy with my angsty teenage bullshit, the phone rings and I see the face of the person I should have know I could call all along.

"Hey, Fiona," I answer.

"_Eli! Oh my God. I have so much to tell you."_ I laugh at the excitement in her voice. It's always good to hear her happy.

"Really?" I ask, raising my voice an octive. "That's funny, I _**have so much to tell you**_too."

"_Don't mock me, or you won't get details." _

Details of what? "Uh…Fi?"

"_Yeah?"_

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"_Okay, don't hate me!"_ I hear her take a deep breath. "_I KISSED IMOGEN!"_

Whoa. Holy fucking shit. WOW. I know I should be forming words at this point, but the male part of my complex brain cannot get certain images out of my head. Very hot, very explicit images.

"Uhhh….um…" How does one voice words again?

"_Haha, I wish I could see your face right now. I bet you have that stupid horny-teenage-boy look."_

I doubt she's wrong. "So…uh…"

"_Do you remember how to speak English, Goldsworthy?"_

"…how about those details?" I smirk even though she can't see it.

"_Oh good! You're not MAD, you're just a PERVE!"_ She sighs with relief, and I chuckle.

"Fiona, I told you…Imogen and I are better as friends." It's true. She's hot, I can't deny that due to the fact that I have working eyes, but we never really connected. I don't think, even for one moment, she ever truly understood what I needed or wanted out of a relationship. I don't fault her for that, though; it just wasn't meant to be. Never was.

"_So you're really okay with this?"_

"Yes." A facetious thought overcomes me, and I can't stop myself from voicing it out loud: "Pics or it didn't happen!"

"_See, this is the reason I like women. They are so much more mature and sophisticated than your kind."_

"Ouch!"

"_It's true."_

"No it isn't. You like women for the same reasons I do: their soft skin, their small lips, their silky hair, their voluptuous-"

"_OKAY, ENOUGH, I GET IT!"_

I try not to laugh too loud into the night. "So…at least tell me this: did she kiss back?"

"_Yeah."_ I can almost see her smiling face. _"She says she likes me. She doesn't know what it means, but we're going to try to figure it out together. Eli, I am so, so happy."_

"Even though you don't have access to your money?" I tease. I probably shouldn't. Fiona sounded devastated when she called to inform me of her familial problems a few days ago.

"_Yes! That's how good she makes me feel! __**Like**__**I don't even need money!"**_

"Wow, you've got it bad," I note.

"_Ha, you're one to talk. Need I remind you of your former obsession with a certain blue-eyed girl?"_

"Uh, yeah, about that…"

"_Oh my God, Eli Goldsworthy, what did you DO?"_

"I didn't do anything!" I defend. A beat goes by before I add: "SHE kissed ME!"

"_WHAT?"_ She sounds more like a banshee than a human being.

I pull the phone away from my ear, afraid she will deafen me. "…yeah."

"_WHEN? WHERE? HOW?"_

I relay the entire story to her, and when I'm done all she do is murmur something about the frostival being an aphrodisiac of sorts.

"Fi, what do I do?"

"_Eli, you're the one who said you'd probably always love her. Can you really deny yourself of exploring that love again?"_

"Who's to say she even WANTS to?"

"_I think her LIPS said so! When they KISSED you!"_ I smile for what must be the thousandth time in the past twenty-four hours.

"I can't stop grinning. I don't know what's going through her head, but I can't wipe this stupid-ass grin off of my face."

"_Just take this break to think about it. Think about how to approach this. Give her some space; let her miss you."_

Space. The one and only thing I denied her when we were together.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea," I agree. "Fiona," I sigh, why is she the only one who can make me float on the clichéd cloud nine we all speak of when we're in love?"

"_Like I've said before, I will never understand the power Clare Edwards has over men."_

**A/N: I have a hard time writing Fiona. Review, please. I'm working on the next chapter now. Clare and…everyone! (Niner throwbacks, anyone?)**


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